


First Class Treatment

by angelsandbrowncoats



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2018 [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depictions of Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nygmobblepot Week 2018, Pining, Self-Hatred, Sharing a Bed, Sleeptalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 21:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14029587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: Oswald has an important conference in Metropolis, so of course he brings his chief of staff along. When they reach the hotel, they find there's been a mix-up: the hotel gave them a room with only one bed, and the rest are booked. Edward tells his friend that it really isn't an issue, but internally he is panicking: after all, what would his girlfriend think if she knew he was in bed with the man he still hadn't gotten over?





	First Class Treatment

**Author's Note:**

> Do most of my works have similar themes and a similar tone? Probably. Do I care? No.
> 
> This gets a bit dark around the middle, but not _excessively_ so. If violence/abuse/verbal degradation to any degree bother you, consider yourself warned. However, none of that occurs in 'reality', only in hallucinations and nightmares (and, it is implied, the past).

“It’s hardly an issue,” Edward scoffed, “An insult, perhaps, but not an issue. Not for us.”

 

“An insult?” Oswald raised an eyebrow.

 

“Of course. You deserve the best of the best. If they made a mistake, they should stop at  nothing to remedy it. Kick someone else out if they must,” Edward said, finishing his statement with a snort as if to imply that any idiot should know such things.

 

“You’re right, of course,” Oswald nodded, “But I suppose my reputation is less well known in Metropolis. It’s too clean here. They’ve no respect for death and crime.”

 

They stood in amicable silence for a bit before Edward returned to the matter at hand, asking, “So are we staying, then?”

 

Oswald bit his lip, and it took all of Edward’s willpower to tear his eyes away. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t proper, it –

 

“Yes, I suppose so. Everywhere will have been booked, and it’s still the best hotel in the city. We’ll simply have to make do,” he sighed, “It’ll be just like the old days, back at your apartment.”

 

Edward smiled at the memory before replying, “At least you won’t have to get shot this time around.”

 

“I sincerely hope not. I’ve been shot more than enough for one lifetime, thank you very much.”

 

“Well, I intend to do everything in my power to ensure that never happens again. If it came down to it, I’d take a bullet for you without question.”

 

Oswald wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Edward felt the pain in his heart even as he fought desperately to ignore it.

 

“You should change that policy. You have a girlfriend after all. She’d probably miss you if you died.”

 

Hearing Oswald refer to Isabella as his girlfriend should have felt good. It should have been sweet and wonderful and everything he ever wanted. Instead it just felt wrong.

 

What was even worse was the implication that no one would miss Oswald if _he_ died. As if Edward could even _comprehend_ a world without Oswald in it. As if there was no one in the world who lov – No. He loved Isabella. Oswald was his best friend, that was all. He loved him like a friend, nothing more. He needed to remember that, tonight more than ever. _Lusting after_ his best friend and employer was extremely inappropriate. Besides, Oswald had time and again refused him, so he knew Oswald didn’t like him that way. And now he was in love with Isabella. The fact that the hotel had screwed up and given them a single queen instead of a double room didn’t have to make things weird. It was three nights, that was all. Three nights in the same bed as his friend and employer. Three nights was nothing compared to the weeks they’d shared back when he was still with the GCPD. He would get through this.

 

He had to.

 

It was unthinkable what would happen if Oswald realized there was a part of Edward’s brain that hadn’t gotten over him like he was supposed to. How uncomfortable would he be? Would he cast Edward out? Permanently? Edward shuddered at the thought and vowed to never find out.

 

“I’ll go get ready, I suppose. You can pick which side you want,” he offered, needing to escape to the bathroom before he made his internal conflict too blindingly obvious.

 

As soon as the door shut behind him, his hands were on the sink, bracing himself as he took deep, steadying breaths. They were only beginning to help when he heard the low-pitched laughter building above his head. With reluctance, he dragged his eyes up to the mirror to see a face he thought he had left in the past.

 

_Well, well, well, Eddie. Split apart again, I see._

“Shut up,” he hissed.

_Aw, didn’t you miss me? I thought you’d be_ excited _to see me!_

“Why would I be excited? Besides, Oswald _can’t_ know about you. What would he do if he knew I was crazy?”

 

_Why do you care? Isn’t Oswald just a means to an end? Now that we have Isabella, we can have everything. She’s so much more compatible than Kristen. Don’t you remember the goal? I was supposed to make you a real man. And a real man doesn’t look twice at a scrawny, crippled man when a gorgeous, pliant woman is throwing herself at him. You’re_ supposed _to take Isabella. To prove yourself._

 

“I said shut up! Oswald has done more for me than you _ever_ have!”

 

_Oh, so that’s it, is it? You want him to fuck you as some sort of, what, repayment? Since when were you such a who-_

“No.”

 

_I’m sorry?_

“Leave.”

 

_Excuse me?_ His reflection gaped indignantly.

 

“I created you to protect me from him, not to become him. If all you’re going to do is parrot his bullshit at me, then you might as well leave.”

 

His reflection blinked at him in shock, once, twice, and then he vanished, leaving a normal reflection behind.

 

“That worked?” Edward whispered, looking down at his hands as if they might have an explanation for him, “Huh.”

 

“Are you going to be much longer?” Oswald called from the other room, and Edward tensed, “Just a few minutes, sorry.”

 

He made haste to get ready after that, lamenting his lack of time to further hash out his issues but unwilling to let Oswald get suspicious.

 

When he emerged, Oswald was lying on the right side of the bed, on top the covers, flicking through channels on the television with a derisive look on his face.

 

“Nothing good?”

 

Oswald glanced up at him, expression instantly melting into something warmer as he smiled, “You know it. Metropolis shows are so… _wholesome_ ,” he spat the last word like it was some vile, rotted thing he had eaten by mistake. Edward grinned in sympathetic agreement, “Everything about this place is too clean. The rooms, the streets, even the people.”

 

“Well, as long as the bathroom is equally spotless, I’ll refrain from complaining too loudly,” Oswald joked, getting up carefully from his reclined position as Edward moved to lie down on the other side.

 

“No rats is a plus,” Edward admitted.

 

“Agreed.”

 

Edward carefully peeled the covers of the bed back, checking for bedbugs out of habit, despite his serious doubt that the priciest hotel in a notoriously clean city would dare commit such an offense. Once reassured that the bed was safe, he climbed in lying stiff as board on his side of the bed, fingers laced together across his stomach as he tried to determine what a respectable distance would be without offending his friend. Perhaps if he feigned sleep before Oswald returned…

 

With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. This was believable, right? What was wrong?

 

Shit.

 

His glasses.

 

He was about to reach up and take them off when he heard the door to the bathroom click open. He forced his limbs to lie limply and his breath to remain steady. Oswald’s footsteps were off by a hairsbreadth, his twisted leg adding the slightest shuffle to the end of every other step as he approached the bed. But he stopped long before he reached his side of the bed, and Edward had to fight the urge to peek and see what he was doing.

 

His curiosity was satisfied only seconds later when he felt, to his great shock, fingertips brushing the hair at his temple. What was Oswald – oh. Oswald bought his sleeping act, and he was taking his glasses off for him.

 

Edward felt his heart fluttering – no, _pounding_ – in his chest as he felt Oswald gently remove his glasses and fold them on the table beside him. And then he brushed the hair on his forehead back. Edward had to resist the urge to _moan_ this time. How could that simple action feel so good? And _why?_ Why did Oswald have to be so – so – so _seductive_ , if it could even be called that. Edward certainly felt seduced. Charmed. Enchanted. Enthralled.

 

_The skilled speaker uses me to gain power over the senseless and the sensational. I am the force that prevents the animosity in a dialectic. I am magic, yet I can be studied. What am I?_

He felt the bed dip on his left side and pretended he couldn’t feel the increased heat radiating off Oswald’s body that made him so wonderfully warm. How was he supposed to sleep like this, knowing Oswald was so close? Hearing him breathe? How - ?

~          ~          ~

Edward woke before his alarm by a full twenty minutes. He would have liked to close his eyes and return to the blissful emptiness of sleep, but that was not to be. The first thing that registered when he woke was how well rested he felt. The second was that Oswald’s arm had ended up slung across his chest. The third was that his face was currently buried in Oswald’s shoulder, his chin resting comfortably (protectively, Edward’s traitor brain suggested) on his head.

 

He felt safe.

That scared him.

The first sixteen of his extra twenty minutes was spent lying perfectly still, torn between panicking about Oswald’s reaction should he awake and reveling in the comfort of his friend’s embrace. The last four minutes were spent carefully extracting himself, a feat which he only barely succeeded in doing by the time Oswald was roused by the piercing beeps of the hotel clock.

Oswald immediately grunted and twisted around, pressing his face into his own pillow, pulling the covers over his ears to block out the sound. Edward stifled a grin and set about brewing a pot of coffee and placing an order for breakfast with room service.

By the time Oswald was up, breakfast was at their door and the strong scent of coffee permeated the room.

“You’re a blessing, you know that, right?” Oswald told him as Edward handed him all of his favorite foods from the staff, “An absolute angel.”

Edward felt himself blushing at the compliment and shrugged uncomfortably, “I’m just trying to be worthy of everything you’ve given me.”

“Ed,” Oswald laid a hand on his shoulder, “If you weren’t worthy, I wouldn’t have given it to you.”

Edward didn’t know what to say without embarrassing himself, so he took a sip of coffee instead. Not as good as the kind Oswald bought, but not awful, either.

They ate a companionable breakfast, neither particularly looking forward to the conferences ahead of them. Oswald’s big speech wasn’t until late the next evening, but there were still plenty of people to schmooze and charm on the menu for today. Edward knew that, despite his distaste for the wealthier people, Oswald would be in his element at these galas and meetings. He never felt more out of place than when Oswald invited him to fancy, upper class events, but he couldn’t imagine refusing him. No matter how inadequate he always felt, if Oswald wanted him there, he’d be there. That’s how it was, and that’s how it would always be.

~          ~          ~

By the time they returned to their room, they were both exhausted. Oswald’s leg had been pushed to it’s limit, and even his natural schmoozing abilities were wearing thin with his patience. Edward was socially and emotionally drained in a way only day-long events surrounded by people could cause. As a result, Edward had no time to agonize before they both collapsed into bed together, each asleep nearly the instant their heads hit their respective pillows.

 

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

_Who was at the door?_ Edward sighed and pushed the covers back, eyes straying to Oswald’s prone form. He really was dead to the world when he slept, wasn’t he? Couldn’t he hear the knocking?

 

_What does it matter? It’s for you._

 

How did he know that? Edward frowned, trying to place his finger on what was wrong. The answer was escaping him, and he was getting irritated. Perhaps he should answer the door.

 

The door swung open, and Edward nearly jumped back in shock.

 

“Isabella? What are you doing here?” his gut twisted as he realized he hadn’t spent a single thought on her since arguing with his reflection the night before.

 

“Oh, I thought I’d stop by to keep my favorite man company,” she simpered, stepping past him into the room. Her eyes fell on the bed and her smile fell away, “I didn’t think I’d find you cheating on me.”

 

“I – what? – I’m not – “

 

“You’re not what? Sleeping with another man? What do you call this?” she gestured at the clearly rumpled sheets beside Oswald’s still sleeping form.

 

“Please, I can explain! It was just a simple mix up with the hotel,” he pleaded, taking her hand. She relented slightly at the desperate glint in his eyes, “Just a mix-up, hmm? So I don’t have anything to worry about?”

 

“No!”

 

“So you don’t love him?”

 

Edward’s breath caught in his throat, the lie refusing to be spoken.

 

“Edward? Say you don’t love him.”

 

“I – “

 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” she reached up to stroke his cheek, “You don’t need him anymore. You have me.”

 

“What?”

 

“You remember how you transformed after you killed Kristen?”

 

“I – “

 

“This will be no different. See how weak he is?” Isabella pressed a knife into his hand – where did she get a knife? – and whispered in his ear, “Just a quick slit across the throat – look how exposed it is. That’s all it’ll take. Then you can take his empire, make me your queen, and we’ll live out the most beautiful fairy tale ever told. Don’t you want that? Don’t you love me?’

 

Edward blinked, looking between his girlfriend, the knife, and the man he loved.

 

“I’m not – I’m not going to kill Oswald. He’s my best friend!”

 

Isabella pursed her lips, “It’s alright to kill him, Ed. It won’t hurt him. He’s already dead.”

 

A cold feeling washed over Edward as he stumbled away from her, to the bed. He pulled the sheets back and gagged at the sight beneath them. Oswald’s insides were spilling out, guts completely mangled, more gruesome a sight than much of what he had seen in his time at the GCPD. No wonder Oswald had been so still, despite all the racket. He hadn’t been dead to the world, he’d just been plain dead.

 

Edward gagged again, feeling bile rise in his throat as he looked at the mangled body of his friend.

 

“There now,” Isabella was behind him as he knelt at the side of the bed, petting over his back with her perfectly manicured nails, “Poetic tragedy. Isn’t it beautiful?”

 

Edward stood up slowly, a trancelike state weighing on his mind as he leaned into Isabella’s shoulder, letting her lead him from the room. Before long, they stopped at another door, and Edward watched in vague confusion as Isabella knocked on it.

 

His blood ran even colder when the door opened.

 

No.

 

How were they here?

 

How were they just a few doors down from him?

 

How?

 

“Oh, Isabella, darling,” his mother cooed, opening the door further to hug his girlfriend before gesturing them inside.

 

“You know, we never imagined Edward would actually be able to get a girlfriend, much less a pretty little thing like you,” she said, leading them to the table where his father sat, cigar in hand and feet on the table as he assessed them.

 

“Not bad,” his father huffed, smoke curling around his face, examining them in detail, “We always figured you weren’t enough of a man to get a woman. You seemed determined to end up on your knees for some man or another, like that fella over there,” he gestured with the cigar to the other side of the room.

 

Edward spun on his heel to see who his father was indicating only to find… himself? There he was, on his knees, blood dripping from the open wounds on his back, glasses cracked, as he peered up, eyes pleading for mercy. His mouth wasn’t bound or gagged, yet he made no sound beyond a whimper as another gash opened on his back and he fell further forward onto his hands, a pitiful sight for certain.

 

And then Edward wasn’t standing there anymore at all, taking the place of his beaten self. He felt the pain of the open wounds even as his terror grew at the sight of his parents and Isabella surrounding him.

 

“You thought we wouldn’t find out, hmm? You had such a beautiful woman, but you pushed her away for _him_?” his mother asked, waving at Oswald’s body, hanging limply from restraints on the wall opposite him. His father stepped forward to nonchalantly extinguish his cigar on the back of Edward’s neck, ignoring the cries of anguish from his son as he snorted, “Figures you thought you could get away with cheating, you dumbfuck little freak. You always thought you could, didn’t you?”

 

“No, I swear, I didn’t – “

 

“How could you do that to me, Eddie?” Isabella whined, even as she raised the whip that struck him, “How could you pick him over me?”

 

“Ed!”

 

The voice cut through his screams, and he glanced up to see Oswald’s lifeless eyes had opened.

 

“Ed!”

 

“O – Osw – “ he choked, trying to call out to him, even as his dead friend continued to call out to him.

 

“Ed! Ed!” the mandible had been freed of flesh but it continued to move as he spoke, “Ed! Wake up! Ed!”

 

Edward sat up, eyes flying open and lungs panting as he tried to reconcile his surroundings. A hand touched his shoulder, and he screamed, trying to leap away and falling off the bed, sheets tangled around his waist.

 

“Ed, it’s okay, it’s just me, it was just a dream,” Oswald was saying, hand reaching out to help pull him back up. Edward moved mechanically, trying to comprehend what had happened.

 

“Ed? Are you alright?”

 

“Oswald!”

 

“Ed?”

 

“You’re alive.”

 

Oswald glanced around before replying, “Umm… yes?”

 

“You’re not dead.”

 

“Nope.”

 

There was a moment of silence between them before Edward flung himself at Oswald, hugging him tight, all thoughts of propriety out the window as he felt the steady beat of Oswald’s heart beneath him, the assurance that all his insides were in their proper place.

 

“We – we haven’t had any visitors tonight, have we?”

 

“No? We both fell asleep, and then I woke up when I heard you screaming.”

 

Oh.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Shh, no, don’t be sorry,” Oswald petted his head, hands smoothing up and down his back comfortingly, “It’s not your fault. You can’t control your dreams.”

 

“But I woke you…”

 

“I’m glad you did, so I could wake you,” Oswald assured him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Edward shook his head, not wanting to relive _or_ process the nightmare he’d just had.

 

“Alright. Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

He wanted to say no. He wanted to just pretend that nothing had happened. But what he said instead was, “Can you just hold me?”

 

Oswald’s hands stopped in their soothing motions, and Edward felt his breath catch in fear before Oswald said, “Of course.”

 

Instantly he relaxed against his friend as they laid back on the bed, Edward’s head on Oswald’s chest to give him the best access to his heartbeat. Oswald wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, keeping him safe, and even Edward was shocked at how quickly the strong embrace of his friend coaxed him back to (a much more peaceful) sleep.

 

~          ~          ~

 

“How was I?” Oswald asked with a smile as they shared takeout across the table in their hotel room late the next night.

 

“Wonderful, as always,” Edward grinned back, “Even after that bastard implied you were somehow inferior because of your criminal record.”

 

“I feel like I’ve been a bad influence on you,” Oswald laughed.

 

“How so?”

 

“When we met, the harshest language you ever used was ‘golly’,” Oswald snickered, covering his mouth with a hand as he proceeded to lose it over Edward’s vocabulary.

 

“Oh come on,” Edward said, “I definitely said ‘drat’ back then. Drat is oodles worse than golly.”

 

“Oodles,” Oswald snorted again.

 

“Are you drunk?” Edward finally asked. Oswald winked, “Only a little. Got to take advantage of all that free champagne, am I right?”

 

“Oh good heavens,” Edward sighed, throwing the food-soiled boxes in the garbage once the last eggroll had been consumed, “You should get to bed.”

 

“Why? We don’t have to leave that early tomorrow morning.”

 

“Yeah, well, you still need to rest regardless,” Edward argued.

 

“I’ll only go to bed if you go to bed with me,” Oswald replied, and Edward felt himself blush up to the tips of his ears.

 

“I – if you mean to sleep, then yes. I also need my rest,” he stammered out, praying that Oswald didn’t notice his accidental innuendo.

 

“Alright,” Oswald said, getting up from his chair and making it the short distance to the bed before collapsing. He was snoring lightly within moments, and Edward allowed himself a brief smile before he got up himself to get ready for bed.

 

By the time he had returned, Oswald was on his side, still snoring. He worked his way under the covers, willing himself to sleep, but for once he found he couldn’t. This would be the last time he would share the bed with Oswald, perhaps forever. As much as it unnerved him, he wanted to remember it. To cherish the memory. He knew now that he should break up with Isabella for good. She deserved better than a man who was so hopelessly gone on another. He just wasn’t sure how he would face the bitter loneliness that would follow.

 

Oswald’s presence was so unavoidable like this. He was so close, Edward could feel him. Smell him. Sense him.

 

Hear him.

 

Oh dear, was the universe truly so cruel? Edward wondered Oswald let out a soft sound somewhere between a wistful sigh and a moan. He could have gone his whole life without hearing that noise, but now he was destined to be tormented by it until the end of his days.

 

_“Please.”_

 

Edward froze. Was Oswald… talking? In his sleep?

 

_“Please, love.”_

 

What.

 

_“Darling, just listen.”_

 

A boiling rage was building in Edward’s veins as he listened to Oswald speak about his mysterious lover. There was someone out there that Oswald _wanted?_ Red crept into the edge of Edward’s blurry vision.

 

_“Just love me back. Please.”_

 

Oswald sounded so desperate, and Edward’s rage grew more intense and more focused. So not only did Oswald want someone, the idiot didn’t even want him back? Edward would find them, make them pay, ruin them for stealing his Oswald’s attention and then throwing it aside. How dare they. How dare –

 

_“Ed, please.”_

 

His boiling blood froze over faster than a rose in a vat of supercooled liquid helium.

 

_“Ed, love, you’re gorgeous.”_

Maybe there was another Ed? Did they know any other Eds? Oswald couldn’t possibly mean _him_. Not after all the times he’d turned him down. After all the rejections, after all the tight smiles, there was no way Oswald could actually love him back. It just… didn’t make sense.

 

_“I’d do anything for you, too, Ed.”_

 

Edward gasped, sitting up to stare at his best friend, pushing his glasses onto his face haphazardly.

 

Who else could Oswald have meant but him?

 

Oswald loved him?

 

What?

 

_More importantly,_ Edward’s eyes widened, _what do I do about it?_

 

Oswald let out another moan, and Edward lost the ability to contain himself. He reached across the bed and shook Oswald’s shoulder, cautiously.

 

Oswald snapped awake, hands reaching out to meet an imagined attacker before he realized where he was and who was next to him.

 

“Ed?” he asked in a groggy voice, “What is it? Did you have another nightmare?”

 

Edward shook his head, words failing him as he attempted to convey everything he was thinking and feeling at once.

 

“Ed, are you alright? You’re worrying me.”

 

“I – You – I – Oswald.”

 

“That’s me, yes.”

 

“Do you – do you really love me? For real?”

 

Oswald’s breath caught as he breathed in, eyes going even wider than Edward’s had been a moment before, “What?”

 

“Do you love me, Oswald?”

 

“I,” he swallowed, “Yes I do. I love you, Ed. I’m sorry. I know you have a girlfr – “

 

Oswald was cut off by Edward’s lips on his own, a kiss that was made sloppy by its insistence and neediness, but also made perfect by them. Edward was kissing him with a desperation that he could only reciprocate, and they seemed to meld together as it continued.

 

Finally they pulled back, and Oswald forced himself to ask, “But what about Isabelle – ?”

 

“Isabella,” Edward corrected, “And, well… she was a convenient way to try and get over you.”

 

“Get over… me?”

 

“Yeah,” Edward bit his lip, looking anywhere but the man he was talking to, “I’ve been in love with you since you got me out of Arkham. But every time I tried to tell you, you pushed me away.”

 

“What?”

 

“Every expression of thanks, the love riddle, telling you I’d do anything for you, the physical touches. I was trying to convey how much I loved you, but you always kept me at arm’s length. I assumed you knew and wanted to let me down easy.”

 

“I assure you, Ed, that was not my intention,” Oswald assured him, pulling him close, “I’ve loved you since that night on the couch.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Oswald laughed before sobering, “So… what now?”

 

“I’m going to break up with Isabella when we get back to Gotham,” Edward said definitively.

 

“And then?”

 

“We could finally have that dinner?” Edward asked.

 

“I’d love to.”

 

“Would you,” Edward glanced around, as if he were about to do something horrible, “Would you be totally opposed to kissing me again now?”

 

Oswald rolled his eyes, “Not remotely, my love.”

 

“Oh, I like that,” Edward sighed as Oswald pulled him down into another passionate kiss, letting himself be manhandled around the bed as he felt totally happy for the first time in… possibly forever.

 

Oswald rolled them over so he could straddle Edward’s hips and kiss him even more fiercely, and Edward let himself melt into the bed. He could definitely get used to this sort of first class treatment – both the ministrations of Oswald’s tongue, lips, and fingers, and the hotel mix-up that had led to them.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the dark themes aren't off-putting. I considered making it only one night, with Oswald talking in his sleep, but I felt I needed some further incentive to move Edward away from the idea of Isabella first. 
> 
> Comments are, as always, extremely welcome!


End file.
